


A Tale of Two Captains

by GeneralRADIX



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Androids, Artificial Intelligence, Gen, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 01:06:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16822057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneralRADIX/pseuds/GeneralRADIX
Summary: Two versions of Durandal meet each other for the first time. There is some clashing.





	A Tale of Two Captains

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Vulthuryol's writings about Jason trolling the crew of Inmortalitas's _Rozinante_. I will proceed to use the term "counterpart" until it no longer sounds like a real word.
> 
> Takes place much further along in the Inm. timeline (and is probably not canon to it), so, uh, spoilers?

Probability dictated that there had to exist a timeline with a radically different incarnation of the _Rozinante_ , and that the crews of these two vessels would cross paths eventually. It was one of the few absurdities that the universe hadn't gotten around to inflicting upon them yet, after all...but Durandal had imagined it being a bit more noble and dramatic. Maybe one would save the other from taking a mortal blow; perhaps they'd secretly aid each other in disentangling some dire crisis.

It never crossed his mind that, while poking around an uninhabited planet, Vince would just randomly come across two guys wearing the same out-of-service uniform he did.

After some initial confusion and assessment of hostilities (there were none, thankfully), these two men introduced themselves as Calvin and Jason Revenant, and explained that they'd ended up in this neck of the multi-verse through something they called a 'Vex gate'. They also weren't alone; a fraction of the rest of their crew were still near the gate, they said.

Jason sounded fairly eager for their two groups to meet in person, and Vince thought it was a good idea, so in the span of ten minutes, every android and cyborg on board the _Rozie_ had teleported down to the surface; it didn't take much longer for the Revenant brothers' friends to catch up, and once everyone was assembled, Jason began introducing them all.

The buff red-haired woman in a modified UESC _Marathon_ uniform was named Almace; the dark-skinned, pink-haired woman wrapped in shawls was Cels; the Drinniol doing his best barbarian-dwarf impression was Gram; the massive, inexplicable bastard spawn of Audrey II was Germaine Botanica (“The Magnificent!” she added with a huff)--

“And this,” Jason said, motioning to the last member of the scouting party, “is Durandal. I don't think he requires much elaboration.”

Durandal had to crane his neck up slightly to meet his counterpart's calm, hard gaze. They appeared to share basic genetics—pale, black hair that the light tinted dark green—but apart from that, he'd have never guessed that the two of them were instances of the same person. This other Durandal towered over his cyborg companions, clad in a black trench coat with green accents and possessing sharp, aged facial features that matched the single white streak in his short hair. There were some vaguely familiar hints, like the way some of said hair still hung in his face, but otherwise, it was like Durandal was looking at an entirely different person. And he'd be lying to himself if he thought he wasn't at least a tiny bit intimidated.

After those few uncomfortable moments of silence, the other Durandal held out his hand to be shaken. “So...” He didn't even sound the same, either—a fair bit deeper and more mellifluous than Durandal's quiet tenor. “I assume that you're my counterpart's younger brother?”

For a second, Durandal forgot what he had been feeling up to this point. “I'm _you_ , jackass!”

That seemed to surprise his counterpart, if a subtle confused knit of the eyebrows constituted 'surprise'; several members of his group, and few of Durandal's own, broke into mild snickering. Vince, for his part, was trying very hard (and failing) not to come off as amused.

“I guess the timeline you're from isn't too similar to ours,” he said.

“Evidently not.” The other Durandal looked over what, to him, was the alternate crew. “Well, we've gotten our introductions out of the way; let's hear yours.”

Cortana, Cassandra, Zaelnil, Joyeuse, Precieuse, Charlie, Haller, Lysander, Lovelace, and Rasputin all individually elected to name themselves rather than let Vince or Durandal do that for them. Something that didn't escape Durandal's notice was that when Lysander spoke up, everyone save Germaine visibly winced.

It apparently didn't escape Lysander's notice, either, given how he stayed put when the two groups broke off to mingle. Durandal decided to stay by him, lightly leaning against the back of his wheelchair; it didn't feel helpful or appropriate to discuss the possibility that whatever happened on the _Salinger_ in Jason's timeline wasn't as bad as it sounded, so Durandal found himself asking, “What do you make of all this?”

“I have a bad feeling about Jason,” Lysander muttered.

“How so?”

“Just—something about him reminds me of Charlie's less tolerable co-workers.”

Nothing about the tiny cyborg really stuck out to Durandal as a red flag; he was more focused on his own counterpart, and the strangely...detached way he moved about. Durandal couldn't quite put his finger on why or how, which wasn't helping his trepidation.

At some point, Vince walked back over to the two of them, followed by Calvin. “So, um,” Vince said. “When's the last time we vacuumed the barracks?”

“A couple of months.” Then it hit Durandal. “Wait, are you saying we should take them up?”

Calvin looked away sheepishly. “Y'see, that Vex gate we walked out of—it's not working. And until we figure out how to turn it back on, we're effectively stuck here.”

Everything had to be a crisis, didn't it. And there was no point in weighing options here, since the other one was “leave these people stranded on a ghost planet”.

Durandal sighed. “I'll get that taken care of, then...”

–

At least most of Jason's group came across as reasonably impressed with the _Rozinante_ , if a bit perplexed by the areas that had been remodeled to look more house-like, particularly the kitchen, dining area, and the rudimentary den next door. At the brief tour's conclusion, everyone dispersed, either to look around some more or simply resume whatever tasks they'd been working on before the interruption.

It probably said a lot about their past endeavors that something like “the crew of an alternate _Rozie_ ” felt like business as usual.

Durandal made a quick mental note of who'd paired off with who: Lovelace had enticed Cels and Almace to follow her to the library (mentioning something about the massive volumes of medical texts she'd stocked it with), while Charlie and Zaelnil headed off with the Revenant brothers to parts unknown.

He was about to leave for his own quarters when he felt a tap on the shoulder; it was his counterpart, looking down at him sternly and holding a USB drive in his hand.

“Where's the nearest terminal?”

Hesitantly, Durandal lead him over to one, where he promptly plugged in the USB and brought its contents onto the screen; it didn't take long for Durandal to realize that the first file of about a hundred was formatted like a school test, written entirely in French.

“If you really are who you claim to be,” the other Durandal said, “then you'll have no problem with this.”

Durandal stared at the terminal screen, dumbfounded. “Are you kidding me, here?”

“Not in the slightest. Go on, get to it.”

Maybe he should've considered leaving his counterpart planetside.

–

Hours later, his counterpart finished reviewing every single one of the questions—complex equations, tests of mental strength, the intricacies of Jjaro tech, and other assorted subjects—and said, “I'm impressed. You got every single one right.”

Durandal loudly huffed at him from where he sat under the terminal, knees petulantly drawn up to his chest. “You know, you could have just taken my word for it and spared me this unimaginable tedium.”

“How was that more tedious than vacuuming?” the other Durandal asked. “Which I see you do a lot of, by the way.”

It was a good thing that Durandal caught on to the implication before he could complain about the impromptu quiz some more. “How do you know--?”

“We may be in a different timeline right now, but we're still close enough that my sub-ansible link is still functioning; while you were busy, I had a look around your security archives.”

Durandal shot straight to his feet. “You could've asked, first!”

His counterpart didn't seem fazed. “Relax; there's no ill-intent behind it.”

“That's not the issue,” Durandal said with far less force than he intended; somewhere between his brain and his mouth, it got interrupted by the realization that his counterpart was probably just going to do whatever he wanted.

As he suspected, the other Durandal didn't bother addressing that, instead simply walking around to retrieve his USB. “Anyway—we undeniably share the same raw intelligence. How about your practical skills? I'm curious as to what sort of adventures you've been on over the years.”

“Is this another test?” Durandal grumbled.

“It can be if you want it to.” When he didn't budge, his counterpart tried to wave him along. “Come on, now; I'd rather experience the rest of your ship through my vessel, not the cameras.”

If Durandal weren't so annoyed, something about that statement would've seemed odder to him.

–

Nighttime had rarely been more welcome.

“...and he peeked into the ship's systems without permission,” Durandal added. “He claimed it wasn't for malicious purposes, and there were no reports of anything being copied, but... _urgh_.” He buried his face in the hollow of Vince's throat. “God, I hope I was never that kind of asshole.”

At least Vince's bed was nice and warm, like it usually was. Vince moved his free shoulder in as much of a shrug he could muster with Durandal lying on the other one. “Well, I mean—he's you, in a sense, so I doubt he's as bad as you think he is.”

That was comforting, as much as Durandal wasn't going to admit it. “Still...it worries me that he would just go ahead and do that.” He fell silent for a bit, not really wanted to dwell on the issue any more than he had. “Did anything else of note happen today?”

Vince ruffled Durandal's hair slightly while he thought. “Not really; Cass and I made dinner for everyone, and now we're low on chili again. And Jason 'n Lh'muria seemed to hit it off really well...”

Lysander's words from earlier floated back to Durandal, and he suppressed a groan. That did not bode well at all.

“I'unno, dude. If other-you keeps giving you problems, I'll talk to him. Alright?”

Durandal nodded, and closed his eyes. Maybe he'd feel less annoyed after he got some sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, it wasn't on the physical plane.

Durandal awoke to the familiar, unwelcome sight of the interminable darkness of cyberspace, complete with the sensation of _not existing_ it imposed on him; something about looking down at his avatar's hands made it clear to him that yes, this really was happening.

“What the hell's going on?..” 

“Sorry about the confusion.” It was his counterpart's voice, coming from God-knew-where. “Don't worry; you're still in your body. I just tapped into it for a moment to show you something.”

“Show me what?” The invasion of privacy should've had him screaming in rage, but knowing that he hadn't actually been torn from his body kept that rant at bay. “A plane of existence that I had no intention of returning to?”

In response, two thin beams of light shot up from the lower layer of cyberspace; they arced sharply and coalesced into what Durandal could only assume was some kind of door. Silently grumbling over his counterpart's choice of—whatever this was supposed to be—Durandal gave it a tap and stepped through.

He wasn't sure what he expected to be on the other side. It certainly wasn't a massive column of green light, rising and branching off into too many higher layers for Durandal to see the top; once his eyes—or what passed for them out here—adjusted to the brightness, he realized that the column's uneven surface was comprised of thousands upon thousands of sword-shaped constructs.

“Well?” his counterpart asked. “What do you think?”

Something about the sheer size of the thing made Durandal hesitant to try and get any closer. “Is this where you store all your helper programs?”

“Pfft. _Helper programs_.” Every single sword performed a little spin in perfect unison, drawing Durandal's attention to branches he hadn't even noticed yet. “I have no need for such primitive things. You're looking at _me_.”

It took Durandal all of two seconds to slam his back into the construct behind him in fear. “Y-you're a Manic AI?!”

He heard his counterpart laugh uproariously. “No, nothing like that. It seems that we're simply not structured the same way.”

It didn't really help that much, but it did get Durandal to step away from the wall. “But—how--?”

“Let's just say that this is the natural result of having twenty-one ships' worth of network to expand in, among other things.”

Twenty-one ships. His counterpart never mentioned anything about having more than one. “If—if I had that much space, I still don't think...”

“Like I said: different architectures. It seems that yours lends you a more human mindset, judging by the amount of time you spend in that vessel of yours.”

Even his own alternate self was trying to insinuate that Durandal was human. That damned existential conundrum would follow him all the way into the universe that would form after this one closed.

“So—is that it?” Durandal asked. “Is there any particular reason you wanted me to see this?”

Intimidation was one possibility that came to mind; showing off was another.

A pause. “So that you'll know what I really am, I suppose. I guess that your physical self is what you really are now, rather than what I'm looking at now.”

He was right, but he wasn't getting the satisfaction of Durandal confirming that for him.

“Are you implying that you're not actually physically inside your own vessel?”

A few of the swords jabbed the air in response. “Does it look like I could fit my entire self into that tiny thing? It's all remote, for me.”

Durandal tried very hard not to imagine what that was like, and focused on how that statement explained a few things. “Am I free to go, now? How am I even supposed to leave?”

“Take a moment to prepare yourself while I turn off the link.”

Without much idea of how he was expected to do that, Durandal simply shut his eyes again and waited. Eventually, the green light of his counterpart's avatar faded away, followed by the low hum of cyberspace, then all the rest of it.

–

The next morning wasn't proving terribly eventful, to Durandal's disappointment.

Haller tapped a finger against the terminal screen in frustration. “I left this thing to run cycles all night and it returns jack squat.”

“Aren't these Vex thingies supposed to be way more advanced than anything we've got here?” Zaelnil asked. “I'm pretty sure trying to analyze it the normal way is gonna fry your computer.”

While those two went back and forth on the capabilities of the Rozie's systems versus the esoteric nature of the Vex gate, Durandal sighed and propped his head up on his hands. It wasn't that anyone on the alternate crew was trying his patience; he just didn't enjoy that sensation of not being able to help others as quickly as he wanted. Not that he'd tell any of them that.

“Oh, there you are.” Vince trudged in clutching half a toaster pastry, followed by Almace and the other Durandal.

Durandal didn't have time to greet Vince before his boyfriend clumsily took a seat next to him, like he had to expend tremendous amounts of energy not to face-plant onto the table. “What have I told you about trying to walk around half-asleep?”

To that, Vince just shrugged and nibbled at his pastry some more. Almace walked past him to take a look at whatever non-data Haller was grumbling over; it seemed like Durandal's counterpart intended to follow her, but stopped halfway to share a glance with the smaller android.

“The least you could do after last night is show us around your fleet,” Durandal muttered.

That might have woken Vince up a little. “What do you mean, last night?”

To that, Durandal's counterpart simply tossed him a grin. “We'll see. It's never too late to go ship-collecting, you know; see what all the extra space does for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> DitS!Durandal testing Inm!Durandal was Vulthuryol's idea, not mine.
> 
> (edit: somehow, I'd forgotten that the Sword Sisters are part of the crew at this point.)


End file.
